Sick Days
by Psycho Rooster
Summary: Everyone needs to be babied every once in a while. Pipster Oneshot


His head was congested, nose stuffy and throat aching something awful. Already, Hartley knew that his day was going to be miserable.

He groaned over the constant beep of the alarm clock, grasping at the covers --James had stolen them sometime overnight -- and rolled over with them to effectively cocoon himself in their warmth. The bed shifted as James moved to shut off the alarm clock, a sleepy moan escaping the other man. There was a thick silence, filled only with the heavy breathing of two men bordering on sleep. Outside, birds were already awake and chirping loudly, sunlight beginning to filter in through the half-parted blinds. Hartley felt the bed dip and move when James stood, trying to shut out the groaning and popping of joints as his boyfriend stretched out all of his kinks. A dull throb of pain was already starting to form over Hartley's right eye.

"Nnff." Piper grunted, pulling the comforter over his head and shoving his face into the pillow beneath him. The sound of James moving around for the morning seemed to pause and Hartley reveled in the silence, sniffling once to try and stop the feeling of a runny nose that had been bothering him for the past minute and a half.

"Hart?" James inquired, bed creaking as the man kneeled back onto it to peer over at the redhead's hidden face. A strong hand gripped to Hartley's shoulder. "Hartley, you okay?" The Piper opened his mouth, whimpering softly and wincing at the pain that tore down his throat. He peeked a hand out from under the covers, holding up the number three and tapping his index finger of the sign against his chin.

"Water? Your throat hurt?" James muttered, his voice laced with that childish sympathy one got when their loved ones were sick and needing to be babied. Piper nodded with a disgruntled frown and James tutted, leaning forward just enough to brush a kiss against the redheaded man's temple.

"I'll see if we have any juice, first." Hartley hummed, trying to bury himself into his side of the bed as James moved to head off to the kitchen.

He must have dozed off, because when he woke up again, James was entering with a tray of eggs and a jug of apple juice sloshing around in his free hand. "I came back and you were already asleep, so I just ran over to the store to get some stuff for breakfast. You like your eggs over-easy, right?" Hartley glanced over to the clock, surprised to see that an hour had passed, and he moved to sit up and reprimand James for skipping out on work.

James shut him up by thrusting the half-gallon jug of apple juice at Hartley's chest. "Hold this." He demanded, ignoring the indignant huff from his boyfriend and using his free hand to shove some of Hartley's half-finished instrument projects off of the man's nightstand and placing the tray down. With his arms no longer full, he took the jug from Piper, sitting on the side of the bed and opening it to pour into an empty glass of ice on the tray.

"So is it just your throat?" Hartley shook his head, pointing to his nose and then tapping his head before making a grinding motion with his two index fingers, twisting them towards one another. James tutted again, handing the filled glass of juice over to Hartley.

"First, its a good thing you made me learn some signs in case your implants malfunctioned, or I'd think you just propositioned me." Hartley smiled to himself, taking the glass of juice to his lips and nearly moaning in relief when the cold liquid splashed against the burning walls of his throat. "Second," James continued as Hartley all but inhaled the juice, holding up the jug to refill it when needed. "do you want me to get you some aspirin? Or would you rather suffer through that congested headache I'm assuming you have?"

Hartley flipped his middle finger up at the man before transforming the insult into the letter 'p' and tapping it against the open palm of his left hand, the sign for 'pill'.

James nodded, reaching up to brush aside some stray locks of auburn hair that had fallen into Hartley's eyes. "I've already called in late to work. I also told the shelter you couldn't come in today, so don't bother getting up. I'm nearly positive that all that extra volunteer work is what's gotten you sick." The blond refilled Piper's glass before he set the jug aside. "I'll go grab some aspirin and see if we have anything to help you sleep off this bug." Piper cradled the full glass to his chin, mouthing the rim for a moment before he peered up at Trickster's retreating form.

"Thanks, Tricks." Hartley croaked, only to earn a reprimanding stare from his boyfriend.

"Talking'll make it worse, use signs." With that, James left to fetch some form of medicine for the bedridden Rogue. Piper turned to face the tray of breakfast beside him, shaking his head to see that James had, once again, been taken over by his 'Italian Mama' complex. Two slices of warm toast boasted an over-easy egg on each, bits of cooked ham littering the entire meal, accompanied by just enough pepper to add flavor. To the Trickster, it was a quick and easy meal, and to Hartley, it was Heaven on Earth for his hungry stomach.

Placing his glass of juice down, Piper lifted the tray up and onto his lap, grasping the strategically placed fork beside the plate and digging in with fervor. He was in the midst of trying to stop some spare yolk from running down his chin when James re-entered the room, eyes reading the back of some kind of pill bottle. He looked up, an amused grin alighting his face to see Hartley enjoying his food, and gestured to the bedside table.

"I _did_ put some napkins down too, you know." Hartley snatched up one of the aforementioned napkins, wiping at his chin. He cleared his throat, relieved to see that the food and juice were helping somewhat.

"When are you going into work?" He asked, ignoring the irritated look that James shot his way. He was handed two green gel pills and two aspirin.

"I need to get ready now. You should be fine with some nyquil and aspirin. If you need anything, I'll leave my cell on, so text me." James handed him the cup, giving the redhead a comically serious stare. "No calling. Text only. And no music either. Remember the last time you tried to play with a sore throat?" Hartley remembered, considering it had left him without a voice for nearly an entire week. He nodded begrudgingly, sticking the pills in his mouth and swallowing them down with a swig of apple juice.

Seemingly satisfied, James stood up. "I need to get ready for work. I'll be home around six." He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Hartley's cheek and cupping the bedridden man's face. "Andare a dormire, amore mio." The blond man murmured into Piper's ear, sending shivers through the redhead's body.

Hartley nodded, lifting a hand with his pinky, index and thumb out. Piper smiled up at James, who imitated the sign and pressed his hand against Hartley's. "Love you too. I'll be home before you know it."

James left and Hartley allowed himself to stare at the doorway for a moment before looking down at his half-eaten breakfast and quickly finishing it off. Normally, the bedroom door was closed to let Hartley's rats know that it was off-limits, but James had purposefully left it open. Hartley grinned softly when a brown rat that he'd come to name Rathanial skittered across the floor and towards the side of the bed. He set the tray aside as the small creature clawed its way up the comforter and across Hartley's legs. Reaching out, Hartley rubbed a finger beneath the creature's chin, grinning when the rat shut its eyes in pleasure.

Yawning, Hartley paused to grab his glass for another sip of juice before making himself comfortable, eyes falling closed and one hand holding Rathaniel to his chest. His nose was so stuffed up that he had to resort to breathing out of his mouth, letting out a displeased murmur and hugging Rathaniel close as sleep began to claim him.

When Piper awoke again, the sun was coming in through the blinds and lighting up the entire expanse of his and James' shared bedroom. A glance to the clock told him that he'd been asleep for nearly four hours, the digital clock on James' nightstand letting Hartley know that it was a quarter past noon.

Rathaniel was curled up under his throat, making it even more difficult for the redhead to breathe properly. He grunted, wincing at the lances of pain that shot down his throat and lifted the brown rat up, cradling him in the crook of his elbow. Trying to ignore his sudden fatigue, Hartley pushed himself into a sitting position so that he could grab the glass of juice that was still sitting on his nightstand. The ice had melted, creating a layer of water on top of the juice, but Hartley could care less, as long as it helped to numb the pain that came with merely swallowing.

After waiting a moment to recuperate his suddenly diminished energy, Hartley set Rathaniel on his pillow, the rat letting out a sleepy squeak. With a fond smile to the rodent, Piper got up and shuffled his way into the living room. The television was off and most of the typical house mess was centered around the coffee table with a few bits of unfolded laundry piled onto the love-seat. Shivering at the draft that was coming in through the air vents, Hartley grabbed up an obnoxiously bright orange sweater off the back of the couch -- one that obviously belonged to James -- and tugged it on over his head.

Feet aching from having stood on them for hours on end the day before, Hartley headed over to the kitchen in hopes of finding a box of tissues. When he stepped through the walkway, the first thing the redhead noticed was the white rat plush sitting on the kitchen table with a bow and note around its neck.

Even though there wasn't a single soul around to see, Hartley rolled his eyes fondly and approached the stuffed animal. He lifted it, surprised at how soft its pale fur was, and held it up to his cheek for a moment to take in the scent of a newly-bought toy. The card around its neck poked him in the jaw and Piper used his other hand to flip it over.

_My Minstrel,_

_Try not to overwork yourself at the shelter next time. Get better soon. I'll bring dinner home._

_Love, _

_Your Jester_

Hartley grinned to himself, one thumb idly rubbing the top of the rat's head. He knew James was a bit of a dork, but the man always knew how to make Hartley feel better when it truly counted. Holding the rat to his chest, he returned to the bedroom, intent on resting up enough to show the former rogue just how grateful he was.


End file.
